It completely surprised him when he felt the feather-light weight of fingertips brushing against his back. He spun, startled by the sensation, only to be greeted by the ever-present autumn breeze. He felt dampness on his back, craned his neck to see what it was.
A wet leaf. Just a maple leaf stuck to his shirt. Blown against him by the wind. Just the wind...
David walked faster.
It was just paranoia. The mind playing tricks on itself. There was no one whispering behind him, just the leaves rustling on the ground. It didn’t sound like they were talking at all...
He compulsively glanced over his shoulder. Fallen leaves lazily tumbled along the dirt trail, drifting over exposed roots and clumps of moss. A handful of leaves. Dozens. Countless.
His feet pounded the ground, fear fueling his muscles as he sprinted down the trail. The whisper of rustling leaves grew into a dull roar.